Chapter 3

The big day finally arrived.

From watching the cameras, I knew that Marcus had a meeting at 10:00 AM today to pick up a huge client from Miami.

This client was his golden ticket. A massive order that could save his struggling business. And the physical contract and product samples were locked inside the trunk of his Audi.

At 9:30 AM, I sat at my hotel desk, packing my bags while watching the live feed.

On screen, Marcus was wearing a tight suit, his hair slicked back with gel. He stood in front of my garage, adjusting his tie with a smug grin.

His wife, Brenda, stood behind him, buzzing in his ear about the contract details and how to kiss up to the client.

At 9:40 AM, he pulled out his phone, a fake, flattering smile plastered on his face as he texted the client.

At 9:50 AM, he took a thick folder from Brenda and stuffed it into his briefcase.

At 9:55 AM, he took a deep breath, looking victorious, and reached out to pull open the garage door—ever since the new door was installed, he had been opening and closing it manually without any issues.

But this time, the door didn't budge.

His smile froze. He pulled harder.

The door remained locked tight, like a solid steel wall.

"What's wrong?" Brenda hissed, stepping closer. "Why won't it open? It worked fine yesterday!"

"What the hell?" Marcus muttered, getting annoyed. He slammed his palms against the door. "Did this brand-new piece of junk break already?"

He walked around the door, searching for a keyhole or any way to force it.

But this smart door was designed to be perfectly seamless for security. Aside from a maintenance panel that required special tools, there was no physical lock to pick.

"The remote! Get the remote from the owner!" Brenda shrieked.

"Right! The remote!" Marcus gasped like a drowning man catching a rope. He whipped out his phone and called my number.

In my quiet hotel room, my phone began to buzz on the desk.

I watched his caller ID flash. I calmly folded my last shirt and placed it in my suitcase, letting the phone ring until it went silent.

Once, twice, three times...

He called repeatedly, his panic rising with every ring.

On the feed, sweat was beads on his forehead, and his slicked-back hair was starting to fall apart.

"She's not picking up! Why isn't she picking up?!" he yelled at Brenda, his voice cracking with fear.

"How should I know?! You said she was an easy target!" Brenda screamed back. "What do we do now? The client lands at noon! It takes over an hour to get to the airport! If we miss him, this deal is dead!"

"I know! I know what time it is!" Marcus kicked the door hard, making a dull thud. A dusty footprint appeared on my pristine silver door. "This damn door! This stupid bitch!"

At exactly 10:00 AM, I zipped up my suitcase and grabbed my room key.

My phone showed over a dozen missed calls.

It was time to start the show.